Unexpectedly Beatrice Snape
by The Doctor's Bad Wolf
Summary: Revised: Have you seen this witch? Teenage witch uses unforgiveable curse and flees. Severus is confronted with his daughter and is determined to try his hand at fathering. But seriously, we're talking about Snape. What kind of father would he make? Pleas
1. Avada kedavra!

_**Disclaimer: I don't own nothing.**_

_**Prologue**_

"Avada kedavra!"

A bolt of green light leapt from Beatrice's wand and slammed into the chest of the rearing dragon. The light flared in the eyes of the lizard for a good long moment as Beatrice held the wand steady, her eyes never leaving the dragon's form for an instant. As she broke the connection with her wand, the creature fell to the earth with a ground shaking thud. Beatrice never stumbled or broke eye contact with the dragon as she lowered her wand.

Children were crying, and sobbing all around her; the fire had burned itself out. A wind picked up the bits of burning grass and whirled them around the young witch as she stood glued to the spot staring at the dead dragon. Embers fell on her sleeves, burning holes through the fabric, searing skin and sending signals of pain to her brain. Beatrice still didn't move.

Suddenly her father came out of nowhere shouting her name.

"Beatrice! Are you hurt? What happened?"

He grabbed her and examined her to be certain that none of the holes in her robes led to dangerous bleeding injuries. He knelt looking into her face and then down to her wand hand. His eyes went to the dragon. He took her shoulder tightly and turned her eyes to look directly into his.

"Just tell me this, Beatrice," he said, "Was it absolutely necessary?"

"Yes, Dad," she answered faintly, "It was."

"Good," He removed the wand gently from her hand, prying the fingers back as she held it in a death grip.

She suddenly broke free and fell to her knees retching and choking. He held her hair as she vomited violently onto the ground, her slim body trembling. People were everywhere at once, running and shouting gathering the children in their arms. Aurors apparted out of the air and surrounded them in an instant. Harry spied them and came running.

"Let's get her out of here before the Ministry arrives," Harry said urgently.

Snape lifted Beatrice in his arms, his daughter suddenly much smaller than she had been a moment earlier. She buried her face in his robe, her face pale, eyes wide and haunted.

"Keep them off my trail for an hour," Snape barked, "I have to get her to a safe place."

"Take her to Azkaban," Harry suggested, "They'll never think to look for her there."

"I'll try," Snape answered. He cast one final look around the smoking field, and apparted away.

__

_**GrangerSnapeGrangerSnape**_

The next day the headlines run thusly;

**Have you seen this witch?**

_Teenage witch uses unforgiveable curse and flees_

Under the headline was a picture of Beatrice Granger-Snape, her narrow face pale, framed by jet black hair, but she was smiling and laughing a little. It was a school picture from her second year at Hogwarts. In the photo, Beatrice was nothing more than a happy little girl. Now, she was a convicted criminal on the run.


	2. At the Three BroomStricks

_**Disclaimer: I don't own nothing.**_

_**Chapter One**_

_**Impossibly Beatrice Snape**_

It was impossible.

Severus Snape shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the little girl at her play. Unaware of the tall, black figure observing her from the top of a small hill ten yards from the sandbox she was messing about in. Yes, it was _impossible_, utterly. Granted, her hair was black, ebony, paired with the paler then death complexion he was cursed with, but really. There were limits. She was entirely too..._too_. The Potions Master couldn't put his finger on it.

She was dumping shovelfuls of sand into a bucket and brushing her short bobbed hair out of her face. Even from this distance he could see the careful she patted and molded the sand into the shape she wanted. The wind was playing with her hair like his and he was grateful for his cloak. A young woman in a motherly looking sweater and jeans came up and set her foot on the bench he was standing behind. Leaning her arms on her knee, she spoke.

"What do you think?" her mother walked to his side. He could feel her gaze as it raked over his face.

"Are you absolutely sure?" he asked slowly.

"Please, Severus." she said tiredly, "I may be stupid at times, but I assure you that I am positive. I'd never been with anyone else. Which..." she raised a brow, "You should remember."

"It was nearly four years ago," he reminded her. He felt stupid just saying it. He should have known she wouldn't rush into another relationship.

"Of course, I had counted on you remembering it," she scoffed, "I suppose it was too much to hope for. But that's all by the board now. She is your daughter, Severus, and I want her to have her father in her life."

Now she told him. He knew there was going to be catch. Severus turned to the young woman, "Are you asking me to marry you?"

"No," she replied in shock, "Don't get the wrong idea, Severus. I love you, always have, and always will. But I don't love you _that_ much and I don't want to marry you. Knowing what a burden I would be to you keeps me sane in that area at least. However, a girl needs a father."

"Thank you for presuming to read my mind," he stared at her, his eyes lingering on her eyes. They were filled with apprehension. "I wouldn't know much about fathering," he said sarcastically, "But if you insist on it. I am willing."

She blinked. Severus felt a ridiculous urge to laugh at her reaction. He knew she would be surprised by his decision but still. He was always amused by her reactions. But he couldn't help but feel mildly upset that she didn't want to marry him. It had been four years since he had seen her. Still, four years hadn't done much to change her or his feelings for her. He shrugged as if casting them aside. They were four years too late even if she said she loved him. She suddenly punched him in the arm.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"You know what," she said, a smile dancing in her eyes as annoyance tainted her voice, "That smirk. You were looking at me _that _way."

"I was not," he answered.

"Were too," she answered, "Do you want to meet her now or later?"

Severus looked down at the four year old playing in the sand. He could envision the scene and all he could think of was the mess tears and sand would cause.

"Perhaps not this moment," he said, "I think a more familiar setting would be better for her. I have read studies that say children warm up to strangers more if they are in a familiar or 'safe' area, instead of removing to a strange place."

"The park isn't a strange place, Severus," her mother answered, "We come here all the time."

"Yes, but there are no walls or safe retreats for her if she decides she doesn't like the look of me," he said gesturing to the wide expanse of the park borders.

"Or the other way around," the girl's mother sighed and pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, "You're still transparent, Severus. Look, if you want I can have you over to dinner next week."

Severus winced inwardly. He hated meeting new people, especially this new person and in any case he loathed trying to eat in an awkward situation.

"I could arrive after you've eaten," he said. He tucked his arms behind his back, "I dislike eating with people I don't know."

"You knew me, Severus," she answered softly, "Know me."

He felt his chest loosen at her gentleness, "Not anymore I think," he answered quietly. He took another long look at the little girl who chanced to look up at that moment, they eyes catching each other. Her's were brilliant blue, wide and huge. His were deep set and black. She frowned at him and turned away.

"That's a promising start," he said dryly, turning his back to the child, "Send an owl when you have decided. I promise I won't arrive late."

"You might want to wear something other than black," she pointed out, "Beatrice's not going to like you any better if you look like a vampire."

"Point taken," he answered. He began to walk away and paused. He faced the young woman and asked, "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I was stupid, Severus," she answered. She pulled her sweater closer and mimicked his earlier movement by clasped her arms over her chest, "Afraid and stupid—it isn't as if we parted well. The point is now that you know and she'll know soon."

"You should have told me sooner, Hermione," he answered gravely, "Before she was so grown."

"You're so smart," she replied seriously, "Make up for it."

_**Reviews please.**_


	3. Surprise After Surprise

_**Disclaimer: I don't own nothing.**_

_**Chapter Two**_

_**Conversation at The Three Broomsticks**_

Hermione wiped Beatrice's face one last time and smoothed her own hair a bit in the mirror as she hurried to answer the doorbell. Jeans and a thick sweater made her look more like a mother than she knew. For a twenty seven year old, Hermione looked good young and fresh, but with that something more that says 'mom'. She couldn't believe she was so nervous. It was only Severus, and Hermione had gotten over her trepidation around him long ago. Grasping the doorknob, Hermione took a deep breath and flung the door wide.

"Severus, right on time," she greeted. She eyed his charcoal gray robes and dull purple scarf, "Well, it's not black," She conceded.

"Good evening," he said, ignoring her comments. She merely stood a moment taking him in. He waited for several long minutes until finally coughing to bring her to the present.

"Oh, come in," she stepped back and called out, "Bea! Our guest has arrived!"

He walked into a modest living room decorated in a thoroughly Muggle fashion that surprised him. Back at the school, Hermione had been more inclined toward the Wizarding side of life and fashion, even more so than the Pure-bloods. These placid wing-backed chairs, picture and curtains, however, were anything but magical. He stared at the television set in distaste. A sound from the hallway announced Beatrice's presence.

Severus braced himself as the little girl came into the living room. She peered cautiously from the shadow that the couch had cast in the hallway. Her black hair had been pulled into two perky tails and she wore a bright red jumper and white blouse. At sight of Severus, she stopped dead.

Smiling nervously, Hermione went to her daughter and took her hand "Bea, this is Mr. Snape from Hogwarts School. You remember me telling you about that - I went to school there when I was a girl. Mr. Snape has come to visit you."

"How do you do Ms. Beatrice?" he inquired politely.

"I'm doing very good," Beatrice said frankly, "And you're an ugly man."

Hermione closed her eyes at Beatrice's candor but Severus didn't seem to mind. He had never allowed her to call him handsome when they were together. He always said he didn't want to live an illusion. It seemed that Beatrice wasn't going to let him either.

"Why don't you show Mr. Snape your new pictures, Bea?" Hermione turned to Severus, "Beatrice is quite the little artist. She's been taking a few lessons every week and has mastered the color wheel."

"Indeed?" Severus raised a brow, "I suppose that most children can tell the difference between colors at this age."

Hermione frowned and her tone darkened, "Most children don't actually. Bea, go get the pictures for Mr. Snape to see."

The girl left the room and Hermione whirled on the Potions Master.

'What is wrong with you? You could _try_ to be impressed with her.'

"Hermione, you asked me to be a father not a benevolent source of unqualified praise," Snape reminded her, "You should know that I never praise the unworthy."

She stared at him in shock, "I can't believe you would impose such a rule on a child."

"Then don't make her more than a child, Hermione," he said, "Let me work with her as a child, not a genius."

"Okay, fine," She smoothed her hair again, "I'll just give you two a minute alone. And Severus?''

"Yes?"

"Be nice?"

"I—''

"Here are my pictures!" Beatrice vaulted over the couch and shoved a handful of dripping paintings into his hands, "I just finished this today."

"I can see that," Severus felt the paint slipping over his fingers. He took a seat on one of the winged chairs. Examining the picture, he saw a scarecrow figure with bushy brown hair and two thin arms growing straight out of her head, a pair of skinny legs protruded down to the very bottom of the page. 'Mum' had been painted beside this figure with painstaking care. A smaller smudge with black hair was marked 'Bee' and was obviously Beatrice.

"Do you like it?" she asked, hanging over the arm of the chair. He noticed she was brave enough to come close, but not touch him in anyway.

"They are good enough for a child your age," he remarked.

"I'm this many," she said, displaying four short sticky looking fingers, "How many are you?"

"Fifty-one," he replied. She looked impressed at this big number, "How many fingers is that?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"How many fingers is that?" Beatrice asked waving her four fingers under his nose.

He opened both hands showing all ten fingers, some of which were stained with herbs and inks, dyes and juices. Now finger paints were added to the mix. "This many," he said, opening and closing his fingers five times, finally showing one finger.

Her mouth dropped open, "That's a lot of fingers," she observed, "You must be an old man."

"Beatrice!" Hermione came into the room with a tea tray in her hands. 'It's not nice to say that to Mr. Snape.'

"No," he corrected, "She is right. To a child of such years I am very old indeed." He turned to Beatrice and said, "When you're older you will understand that I am not really that old at all. Wizards do not age as quickly as Muggles."

"What's Muggles?" she asked suspiciously. Hermione's eyes flashed to Severus.

"We haven't talked about that yet,' she warned in an undertone offering Beatrice a cookie, "I thought I'd wait until she was older."

"I am older," Beatrice interrupted, "I'm four, Mummy."

Severus felt himself glaring at Hermione as he addressed his daughter, "Beatrice, do you have any more pictures to show me?" he asked her with surprising kindness.

The little girl nodded and skipped from the room as her parents confronted each other. Severus stood and took Hermione's arm before she could slip from the room as well.

"Hermione, why haven't you told Beatrice she is a witch?" Severus asked sternly, "Is she even aware that you are? What did you tell her I was?"

"It's a long story, Severus," Hermione kept her voice low and controlled, "I'll explain later but not now. Beatrice overhears everything and I don't want her knowing what I do''

"Here they are!" Beatrice scuttled back with another handful of paintings. Like all children, Beatrice could sense tension between the grownups. She placed the paintings on the coffee tea table and stood between the two adults, watching their faces. Her huge blue eyes fastened on Severus' hand that still clutched Hermione's arm.

"Why are you grabbing Mummy?" she demanded.

"It's nothing, sweetheart," Hermione said as Snape dropped her arm, "He was just helping me. I almost fell down."

"I believe I should go now," said Severus.

"You're not going to have some tea?" Beatrice whined, "Mum got Shortbread biscuits for us. They're really good. I'm not 'llowed to have tea till I'm this many," she showed five fingers, "But I can have milk in a teacup," Snape eyed the tray of bright yellow baked goods that Beatrice pointed to.

"I think not," he replied, "Goodnight, Ms. Beatrice, Hermione."

"Have some more cookies, sweetheart," Hermione tucked Beatrice into a chair before following him to the door, "Severus, wait. I want to explain."

He whirled on her, "And I want to hear it. Hermione, I can always tell when you are hiding things from me and I know there is more to this deception of the child then protecting her interests until she is old enough to understand wizardry.'

"You're right, there is," Hermione said. She crossed her arms and sighed, "I'm not supposed to tell you anything, but I think it's unavoidable at this point. I'll meet you at the Three Broomsticks at midnight if you wish to know."

Severus couldn't help but be surprised by this sudden arrangement. Hermione waited for him to decide, "Very well. I'll be there." He finally said, "Goodnight."

"Till then," responded Hermione as she closed the door.

Severus stood for a moment contemplating the door behind which his daughter, _his_ daughter, was living. Beatrice seemed like most children, overactive, but not abnormally so. He might be able to work with this. And then he came to the realization that he had just made a date with her mother.

_**GrangerSnapeGrangerSnape**_

When Hermione reached the Three Broomsticks, she found Severus sitting bolt upright at a small table, glaring at two inoffensive glasses of cherry syrup and soda, each garnished with umbrellas that were enchanted to bob up and down in time to whatever music was playing. She felt laughter tickle the back of her throat as she made her way towards him. The warm yellow light of the Three Broomsticks was welcome after the clear cutting autumn wind that she had just came through. The wrought iron chairs and polished wood surfaces reflected the colors the people were wearing. Hermione smiled again; Severus looked ridiculous sitting there

He stood as Hermione approached and helped her out of her coat which he sent off to perch on the coat rack.

"I see you've taken a liking for soda these days, Severus," she said, nodding to the dancing umbrellas, "I wouldn't have thought it of you."

"The proprietor made it quite clear that he didn't want me in this establishment unless I purchased something," Snape explained, he waved a hand toward the glasses, "He reappeared with these...things. Help yourself if you wish."

"Thanks, but I have to watch the intake these days," Hermione said ruefully patting her stomach, "I'm not the little girl with a metabolism of a runaway train anymore."

Severus couldn't think of a reply to this so he merely motioned for her to sit. Flinging her purse on the extra, empty chair, Hermione sat and began playing with the straw that was embedded in one of the slushy drinks.

"So," she said and waited.

"So, you haven't told Beatrice about Muggles and Wizards or that you, and no doubt she, are witches," Severus stated.

Her eyes flickered up to his. "No, I haven't. I thought she was too young."

"Has she displayed magical abilities?" Snape asked suddenly wondering if Beatrice could be a squip. After all, Hermione was Muggle-born and he was only half-blood; it could happen more easily than not.

"I think so," Hermione smiled, "When she dreams sometimes I can hear the music box playing in her room; on its own. If she has a nightmare the lights turn on by themselves. I think it's safe to say she is a witch."

"And how do you explain that to her?"

Hermione shrugged, "I don't."

Snape blinked a question clear in his eyes, "You don't tell her anything?"

"She's only four, Severus, she is still learning about the world. I don't explain why the sky is blue or why the grass is green; why would I explain any of this other things to her? Beatrice doesn't expect it and so I simply let it go."

"And when she asks about her father?"

Hermione's eyes flashed up to his, "We haven't reached that question yet."

"I see," Snape felt but didn't display his disappointment, "When are you going to tell her who I am?"

"I thought I'd leave that up to you," she answered finally taking a slip of the dancing soda, "I can be too technical sometimes."

Severus dropped his eyes for a moment, "Are you suggesting that I will be able to communicate to her any better?"

"I always understood you," Hermione answered.

A strained silence fell between them after this and the spell was only broken by a couple standing to leave. Snape shifted slightly in his chair and crossed his legs

"And because you understand me so well, you want me to be a father to your child?" Snape brooded a moment, "Why?"

"It may come as a surprise to you, Severus, but I never intended to become pregnant out of wedlock and give birth to my ex-lover's child. I had my future planned quite differently. I was raised in a good home with a Mum and Dad and I always wanted my children to be raised the same way. I know a child needs both parents."

"Hermione," Snape said finding it difficult to even say her name, "The truth, if you please."

She looked at him steadily, "I don't want Beatrice to be in danger."

Severus blinked at her, his expression one of angry disbelief, "Danger?" What do you mean?"

When she didn't answer he pressed her, "Hermione, please." His tone betraying his impatience.

She sank back in her chair, pulling the soda toward her, stirring the cherry fluid around and around, "Since I left Hogwarts I've been busy."

"With the child?"

"With _the_ child?" her tone was suddenly annoyed, "Severus, you could call her Beatrice or _our_ child or _my_ child. Anything, but _the _child."

"You're changing the subject," he pointed out impatiently.

"Honestly..."

"Our child, then," he said, "you have been busy with our child, but that is not what you're talking about, is it?'

"No. I have been doing secret research in an effort to help Harry and the other Aurors to overthrow Voldemort. Now, I know that's not exactly news, or a huge secret, but things have changed. I think we're on to something really big."

"Such as?" he lifted a brow and they both leaned forward, dropping their voices.

"A way to keep Harry from dying at the same time as Voldemort," Hermione whispered, 'We may be on the verge of a huge break through. I can't say anymore about it to you though. It's heavy classified and I shouldn't have even told you this much."

"Does he know? Potter, I mean," Severus asked.

"Yes, but it's sketchy," Hermione sank back again and drummed her fingers on the table top, "He is so busy with his own missions I can hardly get him to come to my lab for study and work."

"He might show more respect for those trying to save his life," Snape commented, "But then he was always headstrong and stubborn."

"And you're not?" Hermione smiled and looked over the few remaining customers, "It's these people, Severus, these people he's trying to save. Since Albus died," her voice dropped and Severus looked away. Hermione noticed his grip tightened on the table edge, whitening the tips of his fingers.

"Since then, what?" Severus asked harshly.

"Since then, he's been possessed by a deep desire to make the world a safe place for everyone; Wizards and Muggles alike. He knew that's what Albus wanted and he's willing to do anything, even die for it."

"He is very powerful," Severus admitted, "But you still haven't explained..."

"Because I'm being watched!" Hermione hissed sharply, "I don't know how or by whom exactly, but I've noticed it lately. I don't want Beatrice to know what I'm doing when I cast protection over the house or when I tuck her in at night and a whisper dreamless sleep charm over her, so she isn't aware of the fact I don't sleep some nights for worrying. I'm afraid that if she knows she will be in greater danger. I'm afraid, Severus, I'm afraid for her. And I'm afraid it's Voldemort's doing."

All conversation around them had died; the people were staring at Hermione while she blew her nose and dabbed at her eyes that were dripping tears all over her dark green sweater. With more of a desire to quiet her crying than a wish to comfort, Severus gently took one of her hands in his own. He didn't hold it tightly, just enough to get her attention.

"Is that why you contacted me?' he asked, "Hermione, are you asking –"

"I'm not asking you to risk your life to find out information for me," she said in a hurried undertone, "But I need your help. I'm asking you to take Beatrice away from here." she finished for him, "I want you to take her to Hogwarts. She'll be safe there."

Severus sat back, shock written all over his cool features, "Take the child to Hogwarts? Hermione, I think you understand why I cannot do that."

"Because you're afraid to admit you have an illegitimate daughter?" she challenged.

"Yes," he answered honestly, "But it goes far beyond that, you know it does. The school is by no means a safe place for a young child and my responsibilities as a teacher and Head of House are such 

that I cannot have a toddler to add to those burdens. I wouldn't be respected as a teacher if this part of my personal life became public. I couldn't even be sure of my position if I brought the matter up with Professor McGonagall."

"You didn't mind that when we were together," she shot back.

"Which was completely different," he answered coldly, "If anything, that would be a good reason why she should not come to Hogwarts. Why do you think the marriage status of the instructors is kept secret? The safety of the students can only be preserved as long as the private life is kept private. Beatrice would be a danger herself."

Hermione slapped him. A woman at a nearby table gasped and overturned her butterbeer all over the floor. Hermione stood, purse in hand, "I'm sorry; I thought you might actually care about your own child. Thanks for letting me know I was wrong. Good night, Severus."

She walked towards the counter. Severus felt a strange tightening in his chest; annoyance, no doubt. He didn't want their interview to end like this, in this place. And once again she was presuming to know his desires.

Snape shot to his feet; the red outline of her hand was clear on his pale cheek. He followed her to the coat rack and whispered, "I was about to say I will speak to McGonagall immediately."

Hermione stopped struggling into her coat, her mouth open in shock, 'What?'

"I will speak to Professor McGonagall this evening regarding Beatrice's existence and seek her permission for our daughter's presence at the school." Snape helped her into the coat, "whatever you think, I do care what happens to her."

"You mean that?" she asked suspiciously.

"You did not allow me to finish. If it proves to be impossible for Beatrice to come to Hogwarts, then I shall take a house in Hogsmeade and raise her there, if you feel it is safe to do so."

"You would leave the school?" she asked quietly, "what about—the other thing?" she said hinting at his moonlighting as Dumbledore's spy.

"Beatrice is my daughter, illegitimate or not," Severus adjusted his coat, "I told you I was willing to be her father in every sense of the word. Her safety is my responsibility too. I intend to keep that promise, Hermione. Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," she looked up into his dark eyes, "Thank you, Severus."

"Save your thanks until she is safe," he answered. They stepped out into the biting autumn night, "Are you safe on your own?"

Hermione displayed her wand. "It never leaves my hand when I'm out in town and even when I'm in the house."

"Good, I will send you news as soon as I can," he said. He stood a moment, the wind blowing the long folds of his coat around him, making him as much the overgrown bat as ever, "Be careful, Hermione. Believe me when I say that Voldemort is not forgiving, protect yourself anyway you can."

"I will," she smiled suddenly; "I am the brightest witch of my age. And if all else fails, I had one of the best Potions Masters in the world, as well as an excellent D.A.D.A teacher. You might have heard of him, his name was Severus Snape."

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	4. Shaking Ironsides

_**Disclaimer: I don't own nothing.**_

_**Chapter Three**_

_**Shaking Ironsides**_

Once in Hogwarts, Severus stormed to McGonagall's office. After the beloved Dumbledore's death, the Ministry of Magic had all but forced the position upon the kindly old witch. She had grudgingly agreed with only one stipulation. She wanted Remus Lupin as her deputy Head. They had fought it, kicked and screamed in their whiny adult way but the witch had held firm, earning herself the nickname, "Old Ironsides," from the students. It was immensely appropriate, Snape thought. He wasn't fond of the werewolf's residence, but Minerva didn't seem to mind him much. As if she ever did.

Now as the Potions Master made his way to the hidden staircase, he almost grinned at the shock this revelation was going to cause the normally controlled Headmistress of Hogwarts. It almost didn't matter that he could lose his job over it; he considered that it would be more then worth it to crack that steely composure.

He murmured the new password and took the stairs two at a time as the staircase spiraled upward. The office looked a great deal the same as when Albus had been there, save for the few additions of pillows and curtains with a distinct feminine flare. Minerva was busy reading over Transfiguration essays when he strode through the door and peered over her glasses at him. Her brow wrinkled and she frowned slightly, staring fixedly at his purple scarf.

"Good evening, Prof. Snape," she said evenly, still staring at the scarf, "How can I help you? I trust that you have a reason for barraging in here at this late hour."

"Prof. McGonagall," he said, "We both know you don't retire until well after midnight these days. And if you really didn't want anyone going to bother you, you could change the password."

"A change that might not be overdue," she said dryly, "If you've come here to try and compel me into letting you expel another Gryff..."

"I am not," he cut in quickly.

"I refuse to send Prof. Lupin aw--"

"I wasn't thinking of that either."

McGonagall removed her glasses and tapped them against her palm a few times, "Then what, Severus, are you here for?"

"Prof. I was contacted, a week ago by one of our former students with whom I had a close relationship."

Another frown appeared in the headmistress eyes, "Relationship? With a former student? Professor, let us be quite clear as to what you mere by both of those terms?"

"I was in a romantic relationship," he explained. He stared into Minerva's piercing blue eyes, "And by student, I mean Miss Granger."

"Oh!" she almost jumped to her feet, "Then...when you were away in France that one time...you...she..."

"Were together," he nodded.

"My God," Minerva sat down hard, "My God, Severus, I don't know what to say."

"Before you say anything, there is further information you must be aware of."

"I'm not entirely sure I wish to hear it," she said weakly, "But go on."

"Miss Granger contacted me last week and informed me that as a result of our time together I was the father of a four year old daughter." Severus watched the color drain from McGonagall's face and she covered her mouth with a hand as if to stifle an exclamation.

"Are you sure?" she whispered.

"Very," Snape replied. He stood and walked toward the shelves before whirling on her again, "Quite sure. I saw her again this evening. The child is definitely mine."

"Dear God," the witch muttered. Minerva tried to smoother her horror, "And…Hermione? How is she?"

"She is as well as ever," the Potions Master went on, "For someone who is being followed and watched, no doubt by Death Eaters."

"Severus, what are you talking about?" Minerva had risen and came around her desk. Her school tone came into play now, "Sit down and explain everything to me!"

Taking a chair, Severus explained, "She told me that she was involved in secret testing and spell creation on the behalf of Potter and the Auror. But recently, she has become aware of the fact that she is being followed wherever she goes."

"Why doesn't she go to the Ministry for protection?" demanded the witch.

"They haven't proved so successful in the past," he pointed out sarcastically.

"Severus," Minerva snapped, "This is no time for you to vent your petty grievances with the Ministry. If Hermione won't go to the Ministry then what does she intend to do?"

"She intends to come on her work taking as many protective measures as she can. I have no doubt that the Aurors are watching over her to some degree considering the research she is conducting for them. She is a valuable asset." Severus went on.

"You speak very coolly of her," Minerva observed icily, "Do you even care that she might be killed?"

"Of course I do," he answered sharply, "I am a hard man, Minerva, but I am not wholly without feeling."

"One wonders," the witch murmured.

"She wants me to take the child," he shot back.

Minerva's mouth dropped open and her eyes increased in size at least five times. Severus smiled inwardly.

"Take the child where exactly?"

"She wants me to bring her here and raise her in Hogwarts," he said carefully, "Considering the state of affairs in the world and Miss Grangers own precarious position, it would be the safest place in the world for the child."

"That would be true," Minerva tapped her fingers against the desk top, "But Severus, we don't even allow married staff members to live on the campus. Considering that your daughter—what is her name?"

"Beatrice."

"Considering that Beatrice is not, forgive me, legitimate, then you must see the difficulty."

"I am going to speak to Miss Granger about adopting the child formally to avoid such problems," Severus said coolly.

Minerva frowned "I hope you understand how furious I am about this," She stomped behind her desk, "I will be taking a risk in having her here, and you know that. Married staff are not allowed on the campus, but—" she stopped him, "Seeing that you and Miss Granger are not married, I don't see that such a rule would apply to you. I will bend the rules this once, Professor, but only once."

"I will see to it that Beatrice has a nanny to care for her during my teaching hours and the time I am to be away," Snape said, "I will not expect anyone here to bear the burden of my daughter's presence."

"Good," McGonagall sat and heaved a disappointed sigh, "You have no idea how hard this is to hear."

"Because Miss Granger was involved with me or because she didn't tell you?" Snape asked his head on one side.

"Both," Minerva replied tiredly, "But mostly because Hermione never told me why she refused the teaching position we offered her. If she had told me it was because of the baby…"

"She would be teaching here?" Severus asked, "I never knew she was asked."

"Hermione didn't want anyone to know of it," Minerva explained, "Possibly because it would come back to you. But I was disappointed with her and I spoke to her harshly. We haven't spoken since."

"I see," Snape contemplated the desk top for a long moment, and then he spoke by way of consolation, "I haven't spoken with her since she left five years ago."

Minerva sank back into the chair, her eyes soft and unusually gentle, "Haven't you? It must be so diff—"

"If there is nothing else, I have to be going. There are some things I have to finish before tomorrow morning class," Severus said brusquely. He moved toward the door, his long coat sweeping over the stones.

"Professor," Minerva called after him.

He turned to face her; a smile just hovered on her face.

"Who does she look like? Beatrice, I mean."

Snape blinked and licked his lips slowly, "Me. Beatrice looks like me."

__

_**GrangerSnapeGrangerSnape**_

"Mummy, why are you packing all my things into a box?" Beatrice asked. She crawled to the end of her bed and peered into the trunk Hermione was laying the piles of neatly folded clothes into.

"Because you want to have all your toys and dresses and things when you go to live with Mr. Snape," Hermione explained, "He really wants to know you, Bea."

"He wears ugly clothes," Beatrice observed rolling to her back and kicking her round legs into the air, "And his face is frowny."

"No, he just looks different," Hermione said, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "And he can wear the kinds of clothes he wants just like you and I do."

"I don't wear ugly clothes," Beatrice said smoothing her pink shirt with her hands, "I wear pretty dresses and shirts. And shoes," she added clicking her shiny patent leathers together.

"Yes, you do." Hermione agreed. She slipped the last few children's' books into the truck and allowed the truck to slip shut. The lid was clearly labeled with Severus' address. Running her hand over it, Hermione felt a few tears prickle the backs of her eyes, but she pushed them away as she stood to her feet.

"Come on, Bea. Uncle Harry's coming for dinner tonight and I thought we'd use the good china to make everything special."

"Okay!" Beatrice wormed her way to the edge of the bed and dropped to the floor. She ran ahead of her mother into the small kitchen and Hermione drew a deep breath as she watched her little sprite go.

She had had long talks with Beatrice about Mr. Snape and how much fun it was going to be for her to go and stay with him. Although Severus hadn't visited again in person he had phoned several times to speak to Beatrice. This special attention thrilled Beatrice to no end and she was excited to be going off to see him. She didn't often talk on the phone and sometimes she was clearly confused by Snape's conversation, but her pleasure was evident. Hermione didn't even try to explain what a sacrifice he was making for Beatrice to go to live with him.

Somehow along the way, Hermione had forgotten to tell Beatrice who Severus really was. But how could she tell her? The only real father figure Beatrice had ever had was Harry and he came so rarely these days that he didn't even count anymore. He was only coming now because Hermione had told him she was sending Beatrice away. They had argued heatedly for hours over it. Harry had never let go of his anger toward Snape, because of his father, because of Voldemort and because of Dumbledore.

When she had finally shouted herself horse, Harry had grudgingly agreed to come over for a last goodbye. As Hermione helped Beatrice set the fine china on the table, she hoped that the evening would go well.

"Mummy?"

Hermione looked down to Beatrice who was hugging her mother's leg.

"What's wrong sweetie?"

"When I go to Mr. Snape's house can Uncle Harry visit me there too? Will you come too?" she asked, concern suddenly wrinkling her smooth forehead.

Hermione ruffled Beatrice's sleek black locks, "I'll come, but Uncle Harry is very busy and he can't get time to visit very often. We can ask him."

"I like Uncle Harry bestest," Beatrice said fondly.

"I like Uncle Harry too." Hermione kissed Beatrice's head and turned her toward the silverware drawer, "Now put some forks down for Mum, okay?"

"Okay!" Beatrice grabbed as many forks as she could hold and Hermione was just going to tell her to out some back when the doorbell rang.

"He's here!" Beatrice squealed and the forks went flying as she dashed from the kitchen.

When the door was thrown open Harry knelt and opened his arms, "How's my bee?" he cried.

"Buzzing!" she replied and flung herself into his embrace.

He scooped her up and blew a raspberry on her tummy eliciting a happy scream. Hermione grinned and gave Harry a half hug around Beatrice's giggling little self. This little exchange between Beatrice and Harry had been in place ever since Beatrice was a tiny baby. Although Harry refused to get involved in any romantic relationship with Ginny or anyone else, he loved his friends and their families like the one he felt he could never have.

"How are you Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Surviving," she answered tiredly, "You're late."

"As usual," he cheeked, "How's Beatrice tonight?" Harry asked, holding the little girl back so he could see her face.

"Hungry," she laughed, "Mummy made pizza."

"Mmmm, I haven't had your Mummy's pizza in a long time," Harry tickled Bea and threw her sack-like over his shoulder, "Let's go and get some!"

The group moved into the kitchen and was soon enjoying the warm pizza Hermione removed from the oven.

"Beatrice, eat your salad with a fork, not your fingers," Hermione said, "Can I get you some more water, Harry?"

"Thanks," Harry held up his glass. His eyes slid to Beatrice, "So, are you already to go to Hogwarts?"

"Mummy finished packing today," Beatrice sighed, "It tooked forever."

"I should know I was the one doing the work!" Hermione laughed, "Honestly, I didn't know she had so many toys."

"I can't imagine what Snape is going to do with them," Harry said a malicious grin teasing his features; "I can't really see him playing with blocks."

Beatrice swallowed her pizza her eyes wide, "Do you know Mr. Snape, Uncle Harry? Is he your friend? He's my friend, he said so."

Hermione bite her lip and glanced at Harry worriedly. He swallowed his water slowly, "I used to know him, Bea, but that was a long time ago. I don't see him anymore."

"Well, you can come and see him and me when you visit me," Beatrice said happily ignorant of the low chance of such a visit taking place, "He's a nice man."

"We'll see," Harry smiled weakly, "Hey, why don't I take you and your Mummy out for ice cream okay?"

"Hurrah!" Beatrice vaulted from her chair and ran for her coat.

Hermione frowned and whispered, "Do you really think that's safe, Harry? What about—"

Harry hushed her, "Hermione, I don't think Voldemort is going to come and look for me in a Muggle sweet shop. Besides, I would never put you or Bea into a dangerous situation."

"I know, I know. It's just that—"

"Mummy, can you button me?" Beatrice held out her red coat and grinned at Harry.

"Can we get chocolate sprinkles in top?"

"Mountains of them," he replied.

_**GrangerSnapeGrangerSnape**_

Ginny Weasely pushed through the door of Hermione's laboratory, her gray cloak billowing behind her. Her long red hair was braided out of her way and even then a few stray hairs had been blown out during the flight over. She had left her broom in the foyer remembering Hermione's dislike of flying.

Filbert, the house elf bowed, "Good morning, Ginny Weasely," he said, "A good day for flying isn't it?" he gave a nervous little giggle.

"Perfect, Filbert," she answered. She pulled her gloves off, "Is Hermione in?"

"The mistress is busy working but Filbert will go and see," the house elf said happily. He winked out and Ginny walked around the small reception room. Pictures of famous wizards decorated the walls, even one in a special position. It was Albus Dumbledore. Ginny touched the kindly bearded face with her fingers.

"If only you were here now," she said softly, "We miss you so much."

"Ginny!" Hermione's voice broke through the Weasely female's thoughts.

The two friends embraced. Hermione pulled back and surveyed her friend, "You look amazing, Gin."

"Thanks, so do you,' Ginny grinned, "I haven't seen you looking so good since…" she checked her words. She had been about to say, since you'd been with Severus, but instead she finished, "Since Beatrice got over colic."

"I've just had a load taken off my mind," Hermione admitted, "And Harry promised to come over for some more testing. I swear, you'd think he didn't want to live for a little as I can get him down here. I am trying to save his life after all."

"Harry's always going to do things his way," Ginny replied, "And we wouldn't love him as much as we do if he didn't."

"I guess not." Hermione opened the door to her lab, "Come and see what I've done."

Hermione kept a very clean lab. A few other witches and wizards were working in quiet groups all around the room. Potions brewed in caldrons and flashes of light radiated from every corner of the room. Magic was in the air, Ginny felt it run along her skin making it rise in Goosebumps.

"This is amazing, Hermione," she said, "You have quite a set up here."

"The ministry is very generous when they want to be," Hermione nodded, "Here; I think you'll recognize someone here."

She lead Ginny to a corner that was charmed to one sided glass allowing the sunlight to stream in without revealing the interior of the building to passersby. A tall dark haired wizard was bent over a microscope, his careful hands adjusting the slide gently.

"Look whose come to see us, Neville," Hermione said, tapping him on the shoulder.

He jumped back a bit but when his eyes fell on Ginny, a board smile spread across Neville's face, "Ginny!"

The next minute Ginny found herself enveloped in Neville's surprisingly strong arms. Getting over her first surprise, Ginny wrapped her arms around him as well.

"How are you?" she asked breathing in his scent, "Still smelling like Gillyweed and Mandrake root?"

"It's called Old Spice," he admitted, "A Muggle cologne Hermione gave me for Christmas."

"Really?" Ginny turned raised eyebrows to her friend but Hermione just laughed.

"Don't even get started," she said, "We don't believe in office romance. Neville's been helping me so much these last few months that I've convinced him to stay till the end of the year."

"I'm not sure if I won't stay longer," Neville sighed. He held up the bit of glass he had been studying, "I'm not having much like with this potion mixture."

Ginny squinted at the lid, "What is that?"

"Basilisk venom," Neville replied calmly.

Ginny jumped back, "Don't go waving it around then! Do you know how fast that works? It can kill in less then—"

"A minute. Yes, I know," he answered, "You're not the only one who remembers, Ginny. Besides, I'm very careful. This venom can't hurt anyone unless it's injected into the bloodstream."

"That's a comfort," Ginny said ruefully; she did not come any closer.

"Actually it is," Hermione said gesturing toward Neville's caldron, "Neville's on the edge of an anti-venom for it. Think of it as a kind of venom against the venom. Instead of protecting the victim, the anti-venom goes straight for the poison in the bloodstream and kills it."

"In theory," Neville said to clarify, "I haven't quite found the right mixture for it. I'm going to contact Professor Snape about it tonight."

"Good, I'm sure he'll have some excellent ideas for improvement," Hermione said, surprising Ginny with her ease in talking about her former lover, "Oh and Neville, I thought you would want to know that Professor Lupin will be arriving in three weeks. I just got an owl from him about it."

"Alright," Neville smiled at Ginny again, "It's great to see you, Ginny. Come again soon."

Ginny nodded as they walked away, "I will, you take care."

Once they were out of ear shot Ginny asked, "You're in contact with Snape now?"

"Yes," Hermione answered, "He started calling every few days."

"I see." Ginny studied Hermione's profile, "And you're okay with that?"

"I don't talk to him much," Hermione said. She took a deep breath, "He calls to talk to Beatrice mostly."

Ginny stared, her lips open in shock. She licked her lips and said, "He knows? I mean, does he accept her then?"

"He's a man, Ginny, not inhuman," Hermione said coolly, "And yes he accepts her. I don't think I'd have heard back from him at all if he didn't. In fact, he agreed to keep Beatrice at Hogwarts because of the danger to her and I."

"Wow," Ginny took a seat on the nearest stool, "I'm admit I'm really surprised."

"You and Harry must have a extremely bad opinion of him," Hermione said with a frown, "I thought we had all worked passed that. At least, you and I had, I thought."

"No, you don't understand," Ginny explained, "I'm just surprised he would accept such a charge now."

"What do you mean?"

Ginny's eyes looked straight into Hermione's, "McGonagall wanted him to be the permanent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher of Hogwarts."

"Good God!" Hermione breathed.

"That's why I was so surprised," Ginny said "He would have to give up the position if Beatrice came to Hogwarts."

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